Yang Jun said nothing, ignoring Sun Fatty's sarcastic remark. It was Hao Zhengyi who replied in his stead: "That lightning strike just now had enough power to kill an ordinary man hundreds of times over."
Sun Fatty glanced at Chairman Hao and muttered, "Then what about Zhang Rantian? No offense, but really, just one death would be enough for that guy."
Before Hao Zhengyi could answer, Yang Jun suddenly set the black cat on the ground, then reached out toward me. With a sharp whoosh, the short sword hanging at my waist—sheath and all—shot out like lightning and landed cleanly in Yang Jun's hand. He drew the blade and tossed the scabbard back to me. "Borrowing this." With those words, he was already striding toward Zhang Rantian's fallen body.
Without a weapon, I felt uneasy. I hesitated, and in the end didn't dare follow him over to see what would happen next.
Behind me, Sun Fatty shone his flashlight toward Zhang Rantian, effectively lighting the way for Yang Jun. Just as Yang Jun neared Zhang Rantian, a fresh rumble of thunder echoed above. Though the bolt that followed didn't pierce the seafloor, it still lit up the entire plaza with a brilliant flash.
At that exact moment, Yang Jun reached Zhang Rantian's side. In the instant the lightning illuminated the plaza, Zhang Rantian's eyes suddenly snapped open—locking gazes with Yang Jun.
Yang Jun hadn't expected Zhang Rantian to suddenly open his eyes. Caught off guard, he instinctively thrust the short sword straight toward Zhang Rantian's heart.
But Zhang Rantian didn't flinch. He didn't dodge or resist—just stared unblinking as the sword came at him.
Clang! The blade struck his chest and sent up a spray of sparks. The sword, once capable of slicing through anything, barely left a shallow dent in Zhang Rantian's torso.
Back when Hugo had cleaved at Zhang Rantian's skull with his blade, Yang Jun had still been tunneling in the dark chamber. He hadn't witnessed that scene. But now, his eyes were wide with disbelief—he simply couldn't comprehend what he was seeing.
Zhang Rantian slowly stood up, baring his teeth at Yang Jun. "Regretting it now, aren't you? You should've lopped my head off earlier—or at least chopped off my arms and legs. That was your best shot. But you wasted it. Now you're the one who's screwed."
As he spoke, Zhang Rantian reached out and seized Yang Jun by the collar, hoisting him off the ground. Yang Jun struggled fiercely, but couldn't break free of his grip.
Just then, Sun Fatty passed me the loaded crossbow and said, "Aim for his eye!"
There was no time to think. Even though Zhang Rantian was using Yang Jun as a human shield, I still managed to find an opening. I pulled the trigger. Thunk! The slender bolt flew like it had been preordained—no hesitation, no error—burying itself directly into Zhang Rantian's left eye socket.
Even a Nyeh has its weak spots. As the bolt hit, Zhang Rantian let out a blood-curdling scream, a thick stream of inky blood oozing from around the arrow's shaft.
Forget about Yang Jun—Zhang Rantian no longer had the presence of mind to hold onto anyone. Both hands flew up, hovering near the embedded bolt—he couldn't pull it out, nor could he leave it alone.
To his credit, Yang Jun proved his mettle. The man was a seasoned special operative, no stranger to gore. Even as Zhang Rantian let him go, Yang Jun didn't retreat. Instead, he silently repositioned himself right beside his enemy.
Zhang Rantian, clearly afraid I'd blind his remaining eye, kept it tightly shut. But in the peak of agony, when his pain peaked and his guard dropped, Yang Jun suddenly punched the arrow's exposed tail—driving the bolt another inch deeper into the eye socket.
The shriek that erupted from Zhang Rantian could no longer be called human.
Blinded in one eye, he swung both arms wildly in front of him, trying to fend off unseen attackers. But Yang Jun had already retreated beyond his reach, slipping out of danger the moment he landed the hit.
Zhang Rantian's whole body was trembling. Clearly, even after transforming into a Nyeh, he could still feel the raw agony.
After wailing for a long time, he finally clenched his teeth, reached up with one hand, and grabbed the bolt lodged in his eye. With a violent yank, he pulled it out. The moment it came free, a jet of black blood shot out over a meter. Just watching him made the hair on my neck stand on end.
Though his ruined eye continued to gush dark blood, Zhang Rantian seemed to have regained some composure. He opened his remaining eye and glared at us, his gaze finally settling on the crossbow in my hands.
By then, I had already reloaded.
As Zhang Rantian's gaze met mine, I raised the crossbow again and took aim—this time at his good eye.
The success of my earlier shot gave me courage. Now, with no hostage in front of him and a clear shot in sight, I didn't hesitate. I steadied my aim and pulled the trigger. The second bolt tore through the air, headed straight for Zhang Rantian's last remaining eye.
But in that exact instant, Zhang Rantian suddenly raised his right hand and swiped in front of his face. With a loud smack, he deflected the bolt in mid-air. It bounced off the wall behind him and clattered to the ground.
Just as I was about to reload my crossbow, Zhang Rantian had already charged toward me. There was no time left to use the crossbow. I threw it aside and reached for my waist, only to remember that my dagger had been "borrowed" by Yang Jun. It was already too late to bend down and retrieve the crossbow. In that split second, a dark figure loomed before me.
I grabbed a crossbow bolt as a makeshift weapon and braced myself for a desperate struggle with Zhang Rantian—when suddenly, two figures appeared on his right side. By the time Zhang Rantian reached me, those two had also arrived.
To my surprise, it was Hao Zhengyi and Crow who had come to save me.
Hao Zhengyi clearly had a plan. He and Crow had approached from a blind spot in Zhang Rantian's field of vision—his blind right eye. In his fury, Zhang Rantian failed to notice the two of them coming up from behind. I thought they were going to launch a sneak attack, but unexpectedly, Hao Zhengyi shouted loudly, "Zhang Rantian!"
Only then did Zhang Rantian realize there were people on his right. He reflexively turned his head toward Hao Zhengyi—just in time to see Crow, wielding a massive bronze awl, thrusting it straight at his only good eye. Zhang Rantian had no time to dodge or parry. The Six-Spoked Dharma Pestle in Crow's hand was just about to plunge into his eye socket.
At that moment, Zhang Rantian tilted his head slightly upward. A metallic clang rang out—the unmistakable sound of metal striking metal. Crow's weapon had landed squarely on Zhang Rantian's cheekbone. His head jerked slightly, then he swung his arm and struck Crow square across the face, sending him flying sideways into the wall before he crumpled to the ground.
I had intended to seize the opportunity to stab Zhang Rantian's good eye with the bolt, but before I could act, someone grabbed my arm from behind and dragged me backward. From the grip alone, I could tell it was Sun Fatty. He pulled me toward where Yang Jun lay and whispered, "Lazi, stay put. This isn't the time to throw your life away. I'm telling you, Bureau reinforcements should be arriving any moment. If anything happens now, it's just not worth it." Perhaps sensing I felt indebted to Hao Zhengyi, Sun Fatty added, "Those two didn't do it for you. They saw a chance for easy merit—trying to finish Zhang Rantian before the Bureau arrives and then vanish. Too bad. Looks like Hao miscalculated this time."
As Sun Fatty spoke, I glanced over at where Crow had fallen. I thought he was done for—but to my shock, he staggered back to his feet. Blood and broken teeth spilled from his mouth as he spat them out. Then he lifted his head and gave Zhang Rantian a chilling stare. Zhang Rantian had no time for him—he had already seized Hao Zhengyi by the throat.
Zhang Rantian's grip tightened, and Hao Zhengyi's tongue began to protrude. It seemed that with just a bit more force, he would snap the man's neck. Just then, Crow's lips began to move. His mouth opened and closed in silence, as if he were speaking, but no sound emerged. Zhang Rantian wasn't even facing Crow at first—but as soon as Crow began his silent "speech," Zhang Rantian's expression changed. He suddenly threw Hao Zhengyi to the ground, turned with a jerk, and roared, "Say that again!"
The scene was beyond eerie. Crow's lips moved, yet no sound came out. It was as if only Zhang Rantian could "hear" him. His hair stood on end. The black blood around his injured eye had stopped flowing and had congealed on his face, making him look indescribably horrifying.
The more Crow mouthed the words, the uglier Zhang Rantian's expression became. He looked like he wanted to tear Crow apart—but he didn't move, merely stood there, breathing heavily. Sun Fatty nudged me with his elbow and muttered, "Lazi, this lip-sync stuff Crow's doing—I feel like I've seen it before…"
"When Yang Xiao's wife reincarnated," I said. "When Yang Xiao negotiated with the underworld envoys, he spoke just like that." Sun Fatty's eyes widened. After blinking in thought, he muttered, "Ghostspeech… It's one thing for Crow to know it—but how the hell can Zhang Rantian understand it? No joke, Lazi, what the hell is Crow saying? Can you translate?"
I shot him a glare. "Da Sheng, you're asking the wrong guy. That's ghost-speak—almost nobody in the Bureau understands it. If I could, I'd already be a Bureau Chief—or long dead."
Hao Zhengyi rolled over and leapt up from the ground. Panic etched across his face, he shouted at Crow, "Shut up! Shut up! Who told you to do this?!" Crow glanced at him but didn't stop. Or perhaps he couldn't stop. He continued "speaking" for several more sentences, then suddenly hurled the Six-Spoked Dharma Pestle at Hao Zhengyi. When he opened his mouth again, sound finally came out—though at first, his voice stuttered: "Too… too… too late…"
After that, the color drained from his face, turning ashen. But now that he could speak, the words came easier. He looked at Hao Zhengyi and said, "Zhang Rantian… He placed his mother's soul here. She was supposed to reincarnate long ago, but this Yin Convergence Point disrupted the cycle. The underworld envoy has spent three years searching for her—couldn't find her soul. She lost the chance to reincarnate. Now she's stuck here, doomed to wander as a ghost."
Hao Zhengyi ignored him. He stormed forward and slapped Crow across the face. "Do you realize the consequences of what you've just said?!"
Crow, strangely, smiled and replied, "I've held this in for over twenty years. Even if I die now, you should at least let me speak my piece." His words darkened Hao Zhengyi's expression. He opened his mouth, but no words came.
Crow exhaled, like expelling years of pent-up resentment. Turning to Zhang Rantian, he said, "Even though your mother lost the right to reincarnate, I know how to help her cross over. If you cooperate, I can make sure she reincarnates within a month."
Zhang Rantian stood there, staring blankly at Crow as though no one else existed. After a long pause, he smiled and said slowly, "Reincarnate? What's wrong with how things are now? I want her to watch the remaining scum of the Xie family die, one by one. And once they're all dead, she can stay here with me—save me from being lonely."
He glanced at us, his gaze finally settling on me. "Kid, you can have that reincarnation spot instead."
There was no longer any doubt—Zhang Rantian wouldn't stop until I was dead. I didn't wait for Sun Fatty to shout this time. I turned and ran for the plaza exit. A distance of just over ten meters now felt like the ends of the earth.
I was bracing for Zhang Rantian to chase me down. I was even prepared to go down fighting—ready to drive a bolt into his good eye if he caught me. Just as I neared the door, I heard a sharp clang behind me—the sound of metal clashing—and then Sun Fatty's furious roar: "You bastard! Playing dirty?!"
No one had caught up to me. I glanced back to find Zhang Rantian standing where Yang Jun had been. Yang Jun was kneeling a dozen meters away, clutching his chest and gasping. His face was already pale before—now it was paper white.
I finally understood: Zhang Rantian's talk of "letting me reincarnate" was a diversion. His real target was Yang Jun. Yang Jun had been watching out for him all along, but his injuries from the underground chamber had slowed him too much. By the time he saw the move, it was too late to react.
Though I hadn't seen the exact strike, it was clear Yang Jun had taken a heavy hit. Zhang Rantian stared at him coldly and said, "I thought you had a trump card. If I'd known, I would've used a little more force earlier and sent you straight to hell. Who'd have thought Dong Qichao's last-ditch trick would end up hurting you instead? Like I said—Heaven's not ready to take me yet."
With a chilling laugh, he turned to me and added, "If you're going to run, better hurry. Because if I catch you, I'll peel off every inch of your flesh, feed it back to you, and let you see exactly how you turn into a pile of bones."
His words sent a cold chill down my spine. And I believed him. He was dead serious. But it was clear I wasn't his priority—Yang Jun was.
While Zhang Rantian was focused on intimidating me, Hao Zhengyi had made his way to Yang Jun and helped him up. His throat had been damaged when Zhang Rantian choked him earlier, and though he managed to support Yang Jun, he couldn't stop coughing. Each cough tugged at his broken ribs, contorting his face in pain. Yet his action caught Zhang Rantian's attention. He turned and silently watched their every move.
That was when Sun Fatty suddenly spoke up. "Old Zhang, come on now. Most of the Xie family's already dead. Isn't that enough for your revenge? And hey—some of the ones you killed might've even been your real father. You're not worried another lightning bolt might come down and fry you again?"
I wondered if Sun Fatty had lost his mind, provoking Zhang Rantian like that. But then, just seven or eight meters to Zhang Rantian's right, someone moved—a man with a dagger, creeping toward Zhang Rantian's blind spot. Zhang Rantian couldn't see him, but I could. It was Hugo. Ever since we entered the plaza, he'd kept a low profile—but now he was moving in sync with Sun Fatty, aiming to strike while Zhang Rantian was distracted.
When Hugo got within three or four meters, he suddenly lunged, thrusting the dagger toward Zhang Rantian's blind, already-wounded eye. But his move was a bit too forceful—the blade sliced the air with a hiss. Zhang Rantian sensed it, turned, and raised his hand—just in time to catch the blade with his bare fingers. Hugo used all his strength, but it was useless. Still, Zhang Rantian remained wary of the dagger, treating it like a real threat even though it couldn't harm him.
Seeing it was Hugo, Zhang Rantian gave a wicked grin and was just about to speak—when Hugo's other hand swung forward, holding a cross-shaped object the size of a cigarette box. He thrust it into Zhang Rantian's good eye. The distance was too short to avoid. The cross pierced the eye socket instantly. Black blood sprayed from the wound as Hugo yanked the cross back out.